


Dream Until Your Dreams Come True

by suyari



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Pon Farr, Vulcans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1538969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suyari/pseuds/suyari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After George's death, Winona flees to the stars. But with the boys so young, she needs an able caregiver. Luckily, Vulcans make for easy spouses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Until Your Dreams Come True

**Author's Note:**

> This started out with a simple thought: But what if Winona had bonded with a Vulcan? 
> 
> And quickly avalanched.

In her grief, after the loss of George, she clearly never expected to love again. She ran away to space, because it was all she had left of him that didn’t ache, that didn’t wear on her with questions and the vibrancy of life. Space was what had brought them together. Space was where they trail blazed together. Where they fell in love. Where they began their family. And where it ended.

Space, with it’s cool, collected state. Vast and sprawling, full of mysteries waiting to take her away. To be still and temperate all around her for weeks on end and then surprise her with it’s immeasurable depth. Space was always there. It couldn’t be taken. Not the way the children he’d left her could.

Every sniffle, every cough, every headache, upset stomach and fever playing on her nerves. As if to remind her that the Legacy he’d abandoned her with, the one she’d willingly carried so happily, could just as quickly vanish. There one day and gone the next. 

Bright happy smiles and sun bright hair, and eyes like stars. How could a child who’d never known his father be so much like him? Even as a baby, she could see George in Jim. And when she least expected it, no matter how many times she was reminded that he looked more of her, how often she could find him alive in Sam.

What was to bring her immeasurable happiness, only brought pain; a constant, daily reminder of what she’d lost. What she’d never have again. When no one is looking she looks up at the stars and she blames him. And feels a guilt so dark and heavy by the morning, with all the stars tucked away and the sun shining bright and illuminating all things, she can’t bear to look at either of them. But, Jim most especially. For he was there that day. And he is there when she feels most low. And he will be there always, even when she closes her eyes a million light years away.

She can’t keep them, not and keep herself. But they’re too young to be left alone. It’s by chance she meets him. A Vulcan who has lost his bondmate. Someone whom was to him what George was to her. Irreplaceable. Inexplicable. Everything and more. The grate of nerves and hollowing of the chest being alone brings.

A Vulcan whom requires a bondmate, because Vulcans do. They are never single. Vulcans come in pairs like shoes. Only the sole is gone, worn down. And his placid demeanor is the perfect foil to the rage that boils inside her. He cares not for love and lust and all the things other humans still demand. He but needs her to be physically available every seven years or so, for his time. A trip home every seven years is perfectly feasible. It’s an ideal arrangement. 

And what’s more, he has no temper to take out on her children. Has no anger to show in bright flares of temper that end in heavy hands. His bondmate gave him no children. Or perhaps they are all lost to him. She never asks and he never says. But he is gentle enough with Sam and Jim. Kind, considerate, dare she even say fond.

He says it is only logical that she pursue her career, and leave him to his own, which takes him away from the children less often. And when it is an option, they accompany him. It is a perfect marriage in a way she had never thought one to be. He is a good father to George’s sons.

Even when she is far away, she knows they are safe and cared for - maybe even loved. Sam is far less hostile now. And Jim…Jim absorbs things like a _sponge_. He is so bright, in all things, and having a Vulcan for a guardian only accelerates his progress. Because when Jim asks ‘why?’ her bondmate does not become irritated. He answers, clinically and objectively. Explains away all the whys until Jim is awestruck with knowledge. Keeps her little spit fire settled and content with adventures of the mind. How he grows, challenged properly, his thirst for answers indulged with patient, thorough attentiveness.

There are days she can barely understand him. But he smiles at her, happy and so very _alive_ , his very soul alight with passion. He is his father’s son.

"I wish to introduce the children to Vulcan," he says one night.

She is in deep space, and he is on Earth. The boys are in bed. But behind him, despite all his efforts, she can see the change in their home. The steadiness he has brought further support for the foundations. She doesn’t recognize it any more.

"I believe Jim will do well there."

"Whatever you think is best," she says.

She can almost perceive a frown, but he is never so emotionally forward. She’s sure it doesn’t matter when he says nothing about it. If it truly bothered him, he would say so.

"Perhaps you will join us."

It’s an odd statement to make. She does the math in her head. “Is it time so soon?” she asks.

"No," he replies. And does not tell her what she already knows. That the boys miss her. That he is concerned for their welfare. He’s mentioned it before. The distance he cannot cross, that holds them at length from him. For Vulcans are not affectionate, and young children need physical bracing at times he is incapable of giving them. They need emotional guidance, and all the teachings of Surak cannot temper a hormonal teenage boy. Or a child adrift in the universe.

"I’ll see what I can do."

"Peace and long life, wife."

Winona ends the call and pretends she cannot feel his disappointment.

His time comes eventually, of course it does. She has to make the trip to Vulcan. He’s moved their family there, and she’d only been aware of it when an enforced leave sent her home a few months early. The ship in need of serious repairs, and no children, no husband to be found in Iowa. She makes the trip to Vulcan and is not angry. Only resigned. She’s grateful Terran-Vulcan hybrids are difficult to come by. She doesn’t know what she’d do with another child.

Vulcan is dry and the heat is nigh unbearable. She has no time to look around. She has to meet her husband at once, the extended trip has made her two days late and he has been nearly overcome. When it is over, she is sore and tired. He thanks her quietly, with a tenderness she supposes is reserved for just this occasion. She nods and reminds him it is the least she can do for all he has offered.

He says nothing and they leave for home. The boys have been on Vulcan for two years, six months and eleven days she finds. They are both tan and bright blond, an odd combination the locals apparently find quite a sight. It is somewhat startling for her as well. She finds, they do not look like George anymore. It makes it easier to love them.

Jim talks a mile a minute, but his hands - once so wild with gesticulation - remain fixed at his sides. His energy is near vibrating, she can feel it so strongly, and it is there, on his face, in his too bright eyes. But he remains seated, retains his manners and doesn’t so much as twitch as he speaks excitedly about their new home.

Her boys - George’s _sons_ \- like Vulcan. They are growing strong in its atmosphere. They don’t sweat as much as she does. They run and jump and play, and she feels as if her every step is dragging. They take deep, unhindered breaths of alien air, chests puffing out to capacity, and she can barely find the sips of air she takes sufficient.

More so, they speak Vulcan now. They are still emotional creatures of mood and habit. And her husband is patient and tolerant of their manic energy. Her family has found a rhythm all it’s own. It is odd to find herself pulsing oddly.

Sam is speaking, and she cannot understand a thing he says. Jim counters him, a loud burst of sound that’s still somehow musical. Her husband calms him with a single word.

Jim inquires, leads, hedges…she can still tell his meaning from the way he leads with his body. Her husband responds. Jim throws both arms about him and hugs. He isn’t hugged in return, though he isn’t untangled. Winona sits in the cozy and watches Sam stand and brush shoulders, leaning into him. He speaks to them as if they aren’t hanging all over him, invading his personal space, causing a serious affront to a Vulcan. If she looks hard enough, her husband looks content. It takes her an entire half hour - in which the boys are fed and sent off into the oppressive light of the Vulcan sun, and going eagerly - to realize the echoing happiness she felt through their bond was not from him.

"We establish familial bonds with our children," he explains. "There is no harm in it."

"And being exposed to a Vulcan brain is in no way swaying or inhibiting their personal mental processes?"

He straightens - she hadn’t realized he had relaxed even minutely. “Have you found it to so negatively affect your own?” he counters.

She has no answer, so she says nothing.

"Don’t you miss Earth?" she asks, alone with the boys the next morning. Her husband has matters to attend on council business and they will be alone until late in the evening.

"No," Sam replies with a shrug.

"We’re adaptable," Jim says, and she frowns at the word from such a young mouth. "Besides, it’s not like _you_ miss Earth when you leave it. So you don’t have to worry about missing Vulcan when you go on your next mission.”

"How do you know I don’t miss it?" she counters, frown deepening.

Jim shrugs elegantly and eats some fruit - she thinks - that has been cut up and sits on a tray between them. She can’t pronounce it, can’t describe it, and couldn’t be trusted to know it from any other Vulcan fruit in a market. She notes Jim doesn’t use the eating utensils, but his lips still don’t touch his fingers as he pops the piece of fruit into his mouth and chews thoughtfully. “If you did, you wouldn’t leave it so much.”

For the second time in as many days, she has no answers, so she says nothing.

They see her off a week later. The boys are irritated in the way only happy children forced to wait on their indulgences can be. Sam is sweet on a Vulcan girl and even knowing she’s bonded hasn’t kept him from trying his damnedest to get her to notice him. Jim somehow has _friends_ \- dear ones to whom he had promised his day. And Vulcans, he reminds her, are very punctual. He is wary of losing whatever recognition he has won in their eyes. For once, _she_ is the burden.

Her ever loyal husband had spoken to them in a calm, reasonable manner dripping with logic that had brooked no argument. So they stood, her sons, shifting with eagerness to see her gone, so they could return to the lives they so enjoyed.

"Peace and long life," her husband says, raising the ta’al. He does not press his fingers to hers or brush her hand with his as she has seen his kind do in farewell. He never has and before that moment, she’d never cared. It is fitting, she thinks, to be reminded so thoroughly after the fact.

"Bye mom," the boys chorus. They wave - which at least brings some level of peace to her gut. There is something human in them, if buried. It hurts to see it, as much as it cheers her.

"Have a safe trip," Sam adds.

"Don’t forget to send presents," Jim comments.

She barely has a moment to respond before they’ve turned and darted off. Her husband stands alone to see her ship’s ascent, it’s departure from the planet.

"Spock!" she hears Jim cry, as she stares at the lone figure, so steady in the hot Vulcan sun.

"Jim."

What else is said, she cannot say, for it is all in Vulcan. She boards and looks out the rear portview, sees Jim, eyes shinning with delight. He rocks and smiles, and the young Vulcan he’s so eagerly engaging turns and extends an arm in welcome. Jim steps into his personal space and they walk off together.

Jim is young, but she recognizes it for what it is. Her baby’s first love. He looks at Spock the way she once looked at George. She sits there and watches until stars overtake the view, and everything is darkness and light once more. Out here, she knows herself. Out here, she is at peace.

Back on Vulcan, her boys are growing. They will be great men who will do amazing things. Just like both their fathers.


End file.
